


Dark Ruining

by WritingAlone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-Verse with canon aspects, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Canon Temporary Character Death, Drug Use, Exasperated Sam, Excessive Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Heavy BDSM to come, Light BDSM, M/M, Reaper Castiel, Smut, Suicidal Castiel, Suicidal Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, heavy smut, smoking cigarettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingAlone/pseuds/WritingAlone
Summary: Dean makes a stupid decision, and Castiel is understandably upset about it. Did we mention he's determined to fix it at all costs?





	1. Foreboding Omens

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! 
> 
> This is my first ever fan-fiction that I'm publishing for the world to see! I've been shipping Destiel forever and have finally gotten up the nerve to try my hand at writing it! Please be kind and let me know what you think! Also, if you see any html mistakes please have mercy on me!
> 
> I'm not used to how this is set up!
> 
> ~ Paige

“Hello, Dean.”

The sudden reverberation of those two words surprised the hunter and caused him to drop the plate of food he’d been holding in his hands. Upon watching it fall to the floor, he swore aloud, his dinner ruined. Twin mossy green eyes would then slowly turn to look at the culprit responsible for spooking him. “Son of a bitch, Cas. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times not to do that.”

Surely he would understand the scolding, right?

The angel seemed as though he were unaffected by the scolding if the blank stare were anything to go on. What a surprise. Cas never seemed to be affected by any type of scolding the hunter gave to him.

Rolling his eyes, Dean Winchester bent down and scooped up what he could of the bacon cheeseburger, irritation flowing through him as he thought about the struggles he’d had to go through just to get it. “It took over half an hour to get just this burger, Cas,” he muttered, turning to face his best friend. “What’s up? Why are you here? Got a break in the case or something?”

The blank face that the angel normally wore seemed to contort into one of irritation, or even anger. “No,” he answers in his gravelly voice, his arms folding against his chest as those blue eyes narrow knowingly at the hunter. “I came to talk about your latest deal, Dean. You promised Billie a soul? Why?” The way his sentence was structured would suggest the angel was simply inquiring, but the tone it was spoken in demanded an answer.

Dean’s usually stoic face twisted into one of faux confusion, though he knew exactly what the angel was talking about. Scoffing and shaking his head, the hunter just furrowed his brows and offered a dumb grin. “Latest deal? What deal? The only time I’ve met Billie was when I overdosed on pills because I thought Sam died. You knew that already, though. You and I had talked about it.” Dean replied, almost hurt that the angel would think so little of him. Though, again, Dean knew that Cas knew. Castiel might appear stupid, but he was, perhaps, one of the most intelligent men Dean had ever met.

Dean was an accomplished liar, but Castiel had been around him long enough to know when he was trying to pull the wool over his eyes. So to say that Cas believed him would be the furthest thing from the truth. “Do I look as if I was born yesterday, Dean?” He asks seriously, his mouth set in a firm line as he drops his hands from his chest. He was half tempted to flail at Dean in exasperation. “I will have you know that I do not buy that for a second. Perhaps you need a reminder?” He says, stepping further into the dingy little room to stand near the single table.

“There was a deal bound in blood with the Winchesters - you, I assume, as I have yet to meet another bearing the same last name,” He says, shooting Dean a slight glare, which made the hunter cross his arms across his chest. “A deal bond in blood in which Billie offered you an escape, but on the condition that one Winchester must die when she comes to collect the soul. Does that help?”

The sarcasm was hard to miss, but the angel was not finished, which caused Dean to clamp his mouth shut against the ready-made defensive words he was going to spew out. “I am no fool, Dean. I don’t have to ask to know which Winchester it was you intended it to be.” His voice was lowered now, an untold emotion lurking just beneath the irritated tone.

The sarcasm that the angel was speaking was almost grating on the hunter’s nerves. The pure accusations that Cas was placing on Dean was rubbing him the wrong way, but he couldn’t come right out and say that. He knew that the charade could continue no longer. “Cas, where did you hear that? It wasn’t… I wasn’t even going to tell anyone else. Sam is the only one who knows,” Dean answers, looking into those ethereal blue eyes that he’d found himself getting lost in once or twice before. “You can’t do anything about it, Cas. It’s finished, it’s done. I’m sorry.”

The answer hangs there in the air, a finality that Dean hadn’t been expecting. Cas opens his mouth to say something, but Dean beats him to it. “There had been no other choice. It was either make a deal with Billie or rot there in that damn facility. What choice would you have made had you been in my shoes, Cas? Huh?”

The angel looks away, his muscles working in his jaws. The hunter scoffs and breathes, “Yeah, you’d make the deal.”

“Fine.” The angel breathes, his blue gaze finding the hunter once again. “Perhaps I would have, but I would not have…” The words die in his throat because that was a lie, too. He would have hidden it from Dean, too. Dean would call him on that set of lies as well. Just as he reflected on these things, the way the hunter’s brow furrowed further as he listened to the angel’s words would go unnoticed by the troubled angel, those viridescent eyes searching Castiel’s scruffy face.

“You wouldn’t have what, Cas?” Dean presses, dropping the plate of ruined food into the garbage can by the television stand.

It was infuriating to be known so well by someone else. He turns away and starts pacing across the floor, choosing to ignore the question as the wheels in his head kept churning. “Just because I would have done it does not mean that I like that you did it.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he had to cringe at his own emotions. They made him make so many stupid, irrational remarks. Now he had to own it.

Dean had glanced over his shoulder at the ketchup and mayonnaise mess on the floor, but it was decidedly ignored upon hearing the angel’s words. “You don’t like it? Cas, I’m going to let you in on a little secret here. Okay? Here it is. You don’t have to like it. Huh? You got that? It’s over, it’s done, it happened. It’s going to happen whether you like it or not, Cas.” He muttered, wiping his hands clean on a paper towel.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Cas asks, trying to recover from the words that ceased to torment his mind. “I could have… I don’t know. I could have done something. Dean, I…” I don’t want to lose you. No, no. He couldn’t say that. The angel pushes air out through his nose, ignoring the look that Dean was no doubt giving him. He knew that he was starting to push his luck with his best friend, but he couldn’t fathom the thought that Dean’s days were numbered. Cas knew Dean well enough to know without a doubt which Winchester it would be to die at Billie’s hand.

“No offense, Cas, but your record of showing up when you’re needed really kind of sucks. Remember how I asked you to show up when we were chasing after the heavenly weapons, but you refused to even come down to help us until I mentioned the Horn of Gabriel? Yeah, that was real nice, Cas.” Dean simply states, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing a hand down his scruffy jaw. What else could he tell the angel? That he did it so he could hide his feelings that he’d been harboring for Cas for the last seven years? Yeah, right. “Cas, you can’t do anything. Billie and I have already made a deal. I needed to make the deal in order to get out from under the freakin’ government’s thumb, okay?!” Dean grinds out between clenched teeth, flabbergasted that the angel wasn’t comprehending this yet. “What don’t you get, Cas?”

The words that Dean spoke had left Cas shocked. Not been there when he was needed? Oh, really? Okay, the Horn of Gabriel was different. It had been under different circumstances, then. The only reason the irritating human was standing before him was because he had been the one to save him from Hell so long ago! Castiel’s nostrils flare, his hands very nearly adopting the ‘hands on the hips’ that women often used. “I never said I did not understand, Dean!” He nearly shouts, the frustration of his emotions bubbling just beneath the surface of his flesh.

Dean’s eyes narrow slightly at the way the angel’s nostrils flare wide, that slight movement making the hunter’s eye twitch slightly. However, Dean knew that Castiel wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. That didn’t mean he couldn’t try to explain himself further. “Cas...”

“No, Dean.” Cas’ emotions and the logic of a hunter seemed to want nothing to do but clash tonight. Dean was stupid for making the deal if his heart had a say in it, but the logical side of him said that he had no choice. He wanted to tell that half of him to jump off a cliff, but he was sure it didn’t work that way. “I get it. I am unreliable. Thank you for that revelation.” He says, trying to rein his voice and emotions in before he did something rash. “If there is nothing else to say, I should probably get back to finding that break in the case I promised. The time allowance I had seems to have been abruptly changed thanks to you.”

With that, the angel absconded from the room, a flutter of wings signaling his departure. Dean’s attempt at pulling Cas’ attention back to him proved to be fruitless. The angel still left, leaving behind a bitter taste of anger and disapproval and irritation.

Only three more words echoed in the room's hollow interior.

“Son of a bitch.”


	2. A Dark Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has found a solution to the problem at hand... what are the consequences that are to follow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Here's chapter two of my humble story, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~ Paige

It would seem that Castiel was only interested in getting somewhere where he was alone so that he could think clearly without the frustrating presence of Dean. He didn’t really have any intentions of following any of the leads he’d been given, no. Right now, he had bigger things to solve. Dean said that it was over, there was nothing that could be done, but the angel refused to accept that. There was something that was nagging at him in the back of his mind, a solution to the problem at hand, but he was so irritated, he just couldn’t grasp it.

Castiel walked down the lines of bookshelves in the bunker’s library - and, why not? The source of his irritation was over a thousand miles away.

He found that this was a place where he could think clearly and have access to the knowledge of the Winchesters without having to actually be in their presence. There were no sarcastic quips or anyone to tell him that the way he felt about something was wrong.

“Excuse me for caring if you died.” He would say to Dean, but again, there was no one here, save for the layers of dust on the books. Upon closer inspection, he concluded they had not been dusted in a long time, if ever. “‘I always have to be the hero, Cas.’” He’d mock under his breath, mimicking Dean’s voice to the best of his ability. “‘Well, obviously, Cas, the only solution here was to die! It was the only way for me to escape by agreeing to eternal damnation, Cas. Again! The government is far worse than having my skin peeled away from my body day in and day out, Cas.’”

Perhaps it was best that the brothers Winchester were not present during these ramblings.

Cas turns away from the books and goes to sit at a table, his hands coming to cradle his head. In truth, the angel was merely afraid, but because he couldn’t exhibit it by clinging to Dean and begging him to find another way, it escaped his mouth in anger.  There had to be something, anything he could do to save Dean. It wasn’t too late, it just couldn’t be.

The deal had been written in blood. There was very little one could to do to break something that was written in blood. Dean had basically sold their souls - but like it or not, Sam and Cas knew which soul it was that Dean would be handing over. Cas swallowed thickly at the thought of Billie killing Dean. The fact that Dean wasn’t even trying to get out of it was disturbing. He had at least tried when he sold his soul the first time - when he did it to bring Sam back - until it became clear that there was no fighting it.

His blood began to run cold as the next thought entered his mind. Dean wanted to die. He was too prideful to take his own life, or perhaps even thought that Sam and Cas would talk him out of it. Oh, but offering himself up as a sacrifice? That was the way that Dean would want to commit suicide. That’s why he wasn’t going to tell Cas or anyone else. He didn’t want to be stopped.

The angel slammed his right fist against the tabletop as grief and anger took over his emotions. He had to save Dean from himself, but how? Dean gave Billie the right to kill him whenever she wanted to, but… Oh, but wait.

An idea came to him. An idea that was crazy and perhaps extremely careless, but that was for him only to worry about. Castiel felt a determined calmness wash over him as the idea that settled in his mind began to sound better and better to him. Slowly, Castiel rises from the place that he had taken a seat just a few short moments ago before he begins to cross the library floor. The research was not on his mind now, no. Dean claimed that there was nothing he could do to unwrite what had been etched in stone, but he was wrong.

It wouldn’t be hard to find her. All he had to do was make it so he was there.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of an alleyway. There were trash bags that lined both sides of the small walkway and graffiti on just about every surface that the eye could see. Further down he could see a woman wearing a brown leather jacket that was left unzipped, black undershirt, and jeans. The legs of her jeans fed down beneath the lip of the boots she was wearing. She stood over the body of some poor soul who had met his fate at the end of a barrel. For a moment, he paused as rain drizzled lazily from the heavens, soaking into the trenchcoat that he was wearing. Did he really want to do this?

It took only a few fleeting moments for the answer to arrive. For Dean Winchester, he would do anything.

Her back was to Castiel, but he was no coward. He wouldn’t drive the blade into her back, he would let her see the face of her killer. Despite his harmless appearance, the angel was skilled and deadly. Years of serving in the Lord’s ranks had given him time to hone his skills when he wanted to go undetected. A flash of silver fell from its hiding place in his sleeve, his fingers wrapping around the cool metal tight enough to bring the white of his knuckles to the surface. His sapphire blue eyes were cold and serious, brow furrowed and face taut as he set out to do what he had to do.

“Billie.” His voice commanded that the curly headed woman turn around and turn around she did. He had not stopped in his strides, however. By the time they were facing each other, Castiel was already encroaching on her position.

“I’m sorry, Billie.”

* * *

Meanwhile, in Jonesville, Virginia, an incredibly loud clap of thunder woke the dozing elder Winchester from his post-coitus slumber. Green eyes jump open and Dean jolts slightly, his heart racing. Turning his head, the hunter grimaced as he saw the woman he'd bedded earlier that night curled up to him, her arm slung across his abdomen. _Fucking hell._ With a soft grunt, he sat up and removed the woman's arm off his where it rested, attempting to remain as quiet as possible. In the darkness, though, anything was possible.

The woman - whose name his slightly drunken mind couldn't remember - stirred slightly as the bed creaked loudly beneath him, and Dean held his breath as she flopped over onto her other side. He had to get the Hell out of here before she woke up and caught him trying to sneak away. Very carefully, with only the occasional flash of lightning through the windows lighting his way, he began to find his clothes. His pants and boxers were thankfully discarded near the bed, but where the hell was his shirt?!

Had he not still been hungover, his search may have gone a little bit more according to plan. However, the occasional bumping into furniture and cursing under his breath couldn’t be helped as he looked for the remainder of his clothing. In one outstanding display of his honed skills, he tripped over the corner of a rug and reached out with his hands frantically in a frenzied attempt to catch himself. Unfortunately for him, his hands found purchase on a light switch that flooded the hallway with blinding light.

 _"Shit!”_ He exclaimed as he shielded his eyes with his forearm. Everyone knew that lights and hangovers didn’t mix very well!

Had he been aware of his surroundings, he would have heard the tell-tale click of nails against the wood flooring approaching him from behind. As it was, he was busy trying to turn the damned light off again while retreating from the bright lights that had him hissing. The good news? He found the light switch. The bad?

Her dog had thought it a brilliant idea to stand still behind the stumbling hunter and tilt his head in confusion. It wasn’t until Dean was falling back over it did the canine even think about moving. Down like a mighty oak, the hunter fell, landing with a thud that would surely wake up the dead. Dean lay on the ground wheezing, paralyzed for a moment as the air had been knocked out of him. He gasped for air like a fish out of water, his hand clutched in the fabric of his shirt. Wait, what was that?

Something _wet_ just slid along his cheek and it was all Dean could do to withhold a scream of shock. He reached out with his hand and shoved the dog's head away from him while using the back of his hand to wipe the smeared slobber away from his stubbled cheek. “Fucking disgusting.” He wheezed under his breath as he used a small table in the hallway to haul himself to his feet. That bitch still wasn’t awake from all the racket? He had to wonder just how drunk she was before pulling his socks and boots on, and checking his coat for Baby’s keys.

Once locating the keys, he quietly exited the house. This time, to his credit, without any mishaps. Thankfully, the dog didn't even raise a racket, nor did the alarm - if that white box by the door was what that was - go off.

Sleeping around was just how he denied when shit was bad. He just didn’t how bad it had gotten.


	3. Risen Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean summons Billie after Cas has been missing for six months... just to find out Death isn't who he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I know I said it's a bit of a slow burner, but Dean and Cas like to write themselves, so I want ya'll to prepare yourselves for the next chapter.
> 
> I promise that there will be plenty more where this came from, with plenty of angst and story line to go!
> 
> ~ Paige

Dean had been around smokers in his life - himself included - and had stayed in enough no-tell motels to know how to get away with something like this. Standing in the middle of the bathtub, with the exhaust fan going and a towel shoved against the bottom of the door, the hunter held a lit match above the items he’d gathered in order to summon Death. Dropping the lit piece of wood and potassium chlorate, the older Winchester watches as the ingredients catch fire, no doubt bringing forth the person he wanted to see. Dean’s knees pop and crack as he stands slowly, gnarled and calloused hands rubbing them both for a second before he stands stock still, legs bowlegged and aching.

It had been at least six months since the last time Dean had seen Castiel, and that alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had kept busy with various hunts, and the occasional hook up that seemed to be becoming more and more common these days. Dean had become restless, however. He was getting tired of waiting for Billie to come and collect his soul. So what was the point of waiting any longer? Why not just get her to come here and get it done sooner?

He didn’t have to wait long for a form to appear in the center of the bathroom. Anyone who knew Dean knew his philosophy. ‘Shoot first, ask questions later.’ He didn’t stop to question why the form standing before him was taller than he remembered Billie to be or to really take in the details of what they were wearing. Why would he? He wasn’t here to comment on the cute outfit she may be wearing, he was here to finish what _she_ should have.

That goes without saying, just because Dean didn’t see the look of dismay on Death’s face doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. The hunter moved fast, the flash of silver nearly impossible to track. If it wasn’t for Cas’ quick reflexes and his own extensive training, it might have been easily embedded in his ribcage. The former angel’s left hand closed around Dean’s right wrist and twisted his arm away from his body, but he wasn’t fast enough to parry the fist being swung toward his face. He grunted in pain, the place where Dean’s knuckles had connected with his jawline smarting something fierce. 

The hunter took the moment of hesitation and threw his weight forward. He dropped his right shoulder to use it as a sort of battering ram to knock his target back, attempting to shove his opponent back into the wall beneath the showerhead. Unfortunately for him, because he didn’t expect his target to move to the side so suddenly, Dean’s right shoulder slammed into the shower wall. Shouting in pain, the hunter pushed himself off the wall and held onto the angel blade in his hand while gripping his injured shoulder. 

Despite the pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder, he spun to face Billie… Only, it wasn’t Billie he found himself staring at. No, it was a certain blue-eyed, sexy angel with the most serious case of chapped lips he’d ever seen. Squinting at the man, Dean scoffs, holding tight to the blade in his hand as he looks the angel up and down. Growling in anger, Dean lunges forward, attempting to tackle Cas onto the floor of the bathroom, angel blade tossed to the floor of the bathtub. 

The angel had nowhere to go to execute a successful escape from the large frame of the hunter. Dean weighed one hundred and eighty pounds, and Cas thought he was lucky enough to weigh one hundred and sixty. The wall of the bathtub did nothing to help him regain his balance as Dean’s momentum swung him around and over it, effectively toppling the former angel over. 

The landing was rough, to say the least. His head cracked back against the crappy tile. His breath had been knocked out of him and the weight of Dean on top of him was not assisting him with his breathing at all. He could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves of unadulterated rage. 

“Why the fuck are you here?! I called for Billie!” The hunter snarled, uncaring of whether or not the angel beneath him was struggling to breathe or not. He was an angel, he could hold his damn breath. After all, hadn’t an angel once told him he didn’t need to breathe?

Castiel wheezed, his body attempting to adjust beneath the weight of the hunter. “I don’t know!” The words burst from his chest, though he didn’t know _why_ he thought lying to Dean was a good idea. He knew the hunter was a human lie detector, and he also knew that he could read him like a book. It was too late to take the lie back, however, and the look on Dean’s face told him that he sealed his fate. 

The anger blossomed through Dean suddenly at the lie that escaped Cas’ mouth, his right hand raising and slapping the angel across the left cheek of the man beneath him, his knees on either side of Cas’ chest. He was seated firmly on the man’s chest, and it was clear he didn’t care whether or not the angel was able to breathe or if he was bleeding freely from the mouth and nose area or not. “Don’t lie to me, Cas!” He shouted, the words edged with a threat.

Castiel didn’t particularly feel like finding out what happened if he tried it again. “You called for Death.” He says, his breath still ragged, his brows raising above those stunning beryl-blue eyes as he dared to raise his head to stare Dean in the face. “And you got Death.” His hands came up to protect his face because, dammit, he was _not_ taking another hit!

Oh, so the angel thought he could protect his face? Well, he had another thing coming. Dean’s right-hand fingers curled loosely and he used the heel of his hand to hit the solid Adam’s Apple that Cas possessed. Snarling in anger, Dean wrapped that same hand around the former angel’s throat, fingers pressing on Cas’ blood vessels. “Tell me the fucking truth!”

Okay, so, the hunter’s lie detector was a little busted, Cas surmised. He gagged, his body arching up as far as he could beneath the hunter. The Adam’s Apple triggered a bout of gagging on his own spit and the warmth of Dean’s hand around his throat did nothing to help his breathing situation. Cas fumbled for Dean’s right wrist with his left hand, though he made no move to remove it from his throat. “I am!” He insisted through strained vocals. “I… I killed Billie six months ago. I’m… I’m Death.” Oh, Lord. He’d never been so afraid to tell the truth than he was right this very moment. 

_I’m Death._

The words echoed in Dean Winchester’s ears and for several beats of his heart, all he saw was red. All he wanted to do was to beat the shit out of the angel, to beat the man until the blood stained the tiles further. Slapping Castiel across the face once more, Dean snarled, narrowing his eyes. “So, what? The only way I’ll be able to get in contact with you is to summon you? Oh, that’s just fucking _fantastic_ , Cas. Just what I fucking needed.”

Blood was still flowing freely from Cas’ nose and mouth, but he didn’t care. He was too focused on trying to fix this thing that he seemed to keep fucking up. It was frustrating. “I… I don’t know.” Cas says, his voice soft as he stares up at Dean with wide crystal blue eyes. “I’m… I was actually dead for the past six months. This is the first time I’ve seen the light of day…” And to be honest, despite the fact that Dean was angry and nearly beating the ever-loving shit out of him, he couldn’t have asked for a better first sight. “I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, though he didn’t know why he said them. By now, Dean was probably sick of the words.

A sudden sadness washed over Dean. The ache of being alone, the ache of being _forgotten_ and _abandoned_ was nearly forgotten as he stared down at his bleeding best friend, at the way that Cas was suddenly so vulnerable. The want to hold Cas in his arms was slowly outgrowing the anger, though Dean was almost certain there was still that angry fire rebelling in his eyes. Leaning down, the hunter removed his hand from around Cas’ throat, his heart aching in his chest as he looks at Cas’ bloody face, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry, Cas.” He breathes, before he leans down and presses his lips against Cas’, hoping the former angel wouldn’t push him away in disgust.

Cas had imagined their first kiss a number of different ways, but he had never imagined it like this. He wasn’t complaining -- no, that would be foolish. His eyes fluttered to half-mast, his hand still remaining on Dean’s wrist, but not in self-defense. He was holding Dean in place, letting him know that he was welcome exactly where he was. His chapped lips pressed back against Dean’s softly, uncertainty flowing through him as he wondered to himself if he was kissing him right. What if Dean didn’t like it? _Novice._

A soft noise was made in the back of Dean’s throat as Cas’ lips pressed back against his in uncertainty, his eyelids fluttering shut as euphoria took over. It might not have been the first kiss between the two that he had been expecting, but it was _perfect_. Dean’s wrist was still wrapped up in Cas’ hand, and he curled it into a fist, letting him know that he wasn’t going _anywhere_. At least, not in this moment. His left hand moved to curl into Cas’ hair gently, holding the man to him, wanting nothing and no one to come between them in that moment. As far as first kisses go, despite what led up to it and the uncertainty that Cas was feeling, it was definitely Dean’s favorite kiss.

The blood in Castiel’s veins was being pumped through his body at a faster rate, the crimson liquid leaking out of his nose and mouth stopped for the moment. He doesn’t move away from Dean’s advances, but rather presses his mouth a little bit more firmly against Dean’s. He could feel the scratchy stubble of Dean’s cheeks and chin, the warmth and gentle touches going straight to Cas’ nerve-endings. He didn’t know where this was going to end up going tonight, but he knew he didn’t want Dean to move. They had lost so much time while he’d been away, and his heart ached for it. It was _his_ fault. No matter how much the hunter insisted it was his, because Cas knew he would, it was still his. His right hand raised to cup the corresponding side of Dean’s face, his brow furrowing as he made himself vulnerable.

The pain that he had endured during the six months Cas had been gone was intolerable. He would even go as far as saying it was worse than the year he had thought Sam was trapped in Lucifer's cage. He wasn’t so sure which was worse, considering that he didn’t even know Casitel was dead, and he watched Sam throw himself into the Cage with Adam. Pulling away slightly from the kiss, Dean’s hands moved to frame the former angel’s face, thumbs tracing those sharp cheekbones, the scruff dancing over Cas’ strong, chiseled jawline. “Shall we take it to the bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I just wanted to take a moment and thank all my readers and those that have bookmarked this and left kudos! It really means a lot to me, and I hope I continue to write things you love!
> 
> ~ Paige


End file.
